Canada Is
by SkyGem
Summary: Canada isn't many things. Canada isn't cruel; Canada isn't unnecessarily violent; Canada isn't arrogant…but what is Canada? Read to find out. Songfic for Roger Whittaker's "Canada Is." Contains OC Afghanistan.


Summary: Canada isn't many things. Canada isn't cruel; Canada isn't unnecessarily violent; Canada isn't arrogant…but is Canada? Read to find out. Songfic for Roger Whittaker's "Canada Is." Contains OC Afghanistan.

SkyGem: I remember learning this song in music class in Elementary school. Even though I wasn't born here, I am Canadian through and through, and I can get too damn patriotic for my own good. Please read, ne?

Disclaimer: I don't own APH or the song "Canada Is".

* * *

_**Canada Is**_

_Canada is the Rocky Mountains__  
__Canada is Prince Edward Island__  
__Canada is a country made for love__  
__Canada is La Belle Provence__  
__Canada is the Yukon Mine__  
__Canada is a country full of love._

America remembered seeing his brother for the first time as one of England's colonies.

The blond hadn't seen his brother since the two of them used to run wild across their undiscovered lands, spending days, weeks, months exploring, climbing the Rockies on one side of the country, then crossing over to PEI on the other side, having fun on the beautiful sandy beaches and rolling plains of the little island.

It felt so wrong, seeing him standing there shyly, garbed in European attire.

Canada was meant to be a wild thing, free and spirited, his skin darkly tanned from his time in the sun.

But now, he was standing still, his once rich dark skin now as soft and pale as freshly fallen snow, his once dark brown hair bleached to a pale blond*.

The changes in himself must also have been quite staggering, for the other boy just stood there for a few moments, watching him and smiling hesitantly.

After a few moments' silence, the other boy asked in a quiet voice, "B-brother?"

Canada wasn't supposed to be quiet. He was supposed to be loud and spirited and free.

And so America decided that if his brother wouldn't be loud anymore, he would be loud enough for the two of them.

A wide smile gracing his features, America tackled his brother in a fierce hug, trying to convey all his loneliness from the time they'd spent apart in that single gesture.

Canada returned the hug just as fiercely, and America knew.

America knew that no matter how else his brother had changed, he was still the same loving nation he'd always been.

* * *

_We have love for our neighbour_

_Of whatever creed or colour__  
__We have love for our cities__  
__And our valleys and our plains__  
__We have a voice that is calling__  
__Telling all the world we're willing__  
__To welcome them to this great land__  
__For that's what Canada is._

"Excuse me, sirs, but could you please help me with something?"

America turned at the voice of the woman with a smile ready on his face, eager to help someone out and be a hero.

When the blond saw who was standing there though, he froze, distrust building up inside him at the sight of the woman whose hair was covered by a _hijab_ – a head scarf. Involuntarily, an image came to mind of his twin towers burning, a phantom pain appearing in his legs.

"What can we help you with?" asked his brother from beside him, and America turned to look at him with wide eyes.

It turned out that the woman was lost and that needed directions.

Canada happily told her the way to her destination, and the woman walked away with a grateful smile on her face .

The moment she was gone, though America turned to his brother, saying, "That was quite friendly of you."

Canada's eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, and he said, "She needed help. I helped her. Anyone else would have done it."

"I'm not so sure," replied America, "After all, she was a, you know…"

"A _what_?" asked Canada, his eyes growing suddenly dangerous. "A woman? A citizen of Canada? A respectable member of society?"

"N-no," replied America, feeling suddenly awkward. "N-never mind."

Letting out a sigh of exasperation, Matthew told his brother in a gentler voice, "You can't judge a whole because of the actions of a few, Alfred. If an American burglar were to break into my house, should I believe that all Americans are thieves and criminals?"

"Of course not!" cried America in rage.

"Well," replied Canada, "This is the same."

* * *

_We have faith in our future_

_We're ready for tomorrow__  
__We have faith in our children__  
__For our future's in their hands__  
__We have a voice that is calling__  
__Telling us to keep on hoping__  
__For time will make this wild land great__  
__And that's what Canada is._

Canada smiled proudly as he walked alongside his people.

It was June 28th, and once again, it was time for the Marathon of Hope.

One of the biggest fundraisers in Canada, the Marathon of Hope raised money for cancer research in the name of one of Canada's greatest heroes: Terry Fox.

The twenty-two year old had died before he'd gotten to achieve his goal of running across Canada from coast to coast to raise a dollar for every Canadian.

But every year, all across their great country, the youth of Canada would faithfully continue his journey. Elementary schools, middle schools, high schools, all would fundraise for Terry, despite having long ago accomplished his goal.

Canada was proud of his people, and he knew that as long as they kept up what they were doing, there was no need to worry about the future.

* * *

_We have peace in our valleys__  
__We're happy and contented__  
__We have peace in our cities__  
__And our boundaries have no chains__  
__We have a voice that is calling__  
__Telling all free men we're willing__  
__To show them how to live in peace__  
__For that's what Canada is._

They had just been leaving a meeting when they saw her.

A tall, regal woman with coal black hair and pomegranate cheeks and stormy gray eyes; she was beautiful, and held herself with dignity despite the scars and fresh cuts criss-crossing her skin.

The war-torn nation was not one that many recognized, and surprisingly enough, the first one to recognize her was sweet Canada.

Breaking away from the group, the boy ran up to her and fell into her arms, crying out, "Afghanistan!"

The woman smiled softly at the boy despite the pain she was feeling from the goings on of her country.

"It is good to see you again, young Canada," she said in a slightly accented voice. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing great!" replied Canada, looking up at the woman; they hadn't always had very good relations, and he didn't get to see her very often, but he respected her, and she was the closest thing he had to an older sister and mother.

"I've been taking good care of your people!" he told her chirpily, knowing she would be worried about them. "They're settling in pretty well!"

"That is good to hear," she replied, looking visibly relieved.

* * *

_Canada is the Rocky Mountains  
__Canada is Prince Edward Island  
__Canada is a country made for love  
__Canada is La Belle Provence  
__Canada is the Yukon Mine  
__Canada is a country full of love._

* * *

*Canada and America both belonged to the First Nations people at first. I find it irrational to think that they were fair-skinned blondes at first. I like to think that they both looked liked their first peoples once upon a time. You know, before the Europeans came over.

SkyGem: So, what did you guys think? Like it? You guys are probably wondering a few things. Firstly, for the part about America, I know that not all Americans think like that, but there are still those that do, and even if it's not outright hate, a lot of Americans do feel at the very least uncomfortable around Muslims from what I know (ever watched "What Would You Do?"). I hope I haven't offended anyone. And as for the last part about Afghanistan, the reason I chose her and not any other country is that I'm a refugee from Afghanistan (my family moved to Canada when I was three years old) so it's meaningful for me. Anyways, that's it for my explanations! Please do review and let me know what you thought! Ciao!


End file.
